Tim Severin - Corsair

‘Control yourself Karp,’ Hector begged. The Bulgar was sobbing in distress. He was sucking in great gasps of air through his mangled mouth. Tears of rage were streaming down his cheeks, and he was still trembling. ‘Everything’s under control, Karp,’ Hector reassured him. ‘You will have your revenge.’ Karp gave a gurgling choking sound, and turned his face away. To Hector’s utter amazement, the Bulgar dropped to his knees and began to pray. He was weeping uncontrollably.

Hector helped the stranger up. The man was still in a state of shock, appalled by the naked ferocity of the assault. He was unsteady on his feet, coughing and wheezing as he massaged his bruised throat. ‘Remember what you did to Karp, Chevalier. You could not have expected less,’ Hector said. The stranger did not answer at once, but waited until he had regained his self-control. Then he raised his head and, looking straight at Hector, snapped, ‘I should have strung up the villain when I had the chance. But such a death was too gentle for him.’

Dimly Hector became aware of Diaz’s voice. The Spaniard was cursing steadily and fluently. ‘He got clean away, the bastard,’ Diaz was lamenting. He was rubbing his elbow. The rowing master was nowhere to be seen. ‘We thought the pair of us had him under control, but the man has the strength of a bull. He took advantage of the commotion and jumped up off the ground and knocked both pistols out of my hands. When I tried to grab him, he twisted out of my grip as if I was a child. Then he dealt Roberto such a clout on the head that he was dizzy for minutes. By the time I recovered my guns, the brute had bolted. It was too late to take a shot at him and, besides, you had your hands full over here with Karp and his friend. I thought it better to come and help you secure the one bird that we had in the hand. There was no need to worry about that fellow Dan picked off. From the way he fell, I’d say he won’t get up again.’

‘Let’s get away from here,’ said Hector, suddenly feeling very weary. ‘We’ve got the prisoner we were looking for, and the guard will arrive any minute. They must have heard Dan’s shot and all the commotion. We can leave them to find Piecourt whether he’s dead or only wounded. He never lifted a hand to help us, so now we’ll repay him the compliment. Tomorrow I’ll find out just what our captive is worth.’

‘TEN THOUSAND louis d’or, that’s the ransom that I will be demanding for the Chevalier. I congratulate you,’ said Maimaran. The Jew had sent word for Hector to meet him in the imperial treasury, and Hector was astounded by the contrast with the Jew’s humble home. Maimaran was waiting for him in a reception chamber whose barbaric opulence was hidden deep in the palace compound. Sunlight poured in through the fine fretwork of arched windows and threw patterns across a tessellated floor of white, blue and red. The walls were hung with arrays of sabres, shields and muskets inlaid with gold and mother of pearl. Several iron chests, bolted and padlocked, stood against one wall. ‘His true identity is Adrien Chabrillan, Knight Commander of the Order of St Stephen of Tuscany. He also holds various lesser titles of nobility and rank including the honorary rank of captain in the Galley Corps of France. As you rightly surmised, he is also known as the Lion of La Religion. The Emperor is away for a few days so I have not yet informed him of his captive’s identity, but I know that he will be very pleased. It will enhance his reputation as a champion of Islam as well as make a very significant contribution to his treasury.’ Maimaran nodded towards the iron-bound chests. ‘The Emperor always needs money. His expenses are voracious, and his revenues unpredictable. The ransom of Chevalier Chabrillan will ensure a steady stream of income for quite some time.’

‘I had no idea that the Chevalier could be worth so much.’

Maimaran gave a tight smile. ‘His Majesty leaves it to me to act as the unofficial comptroller of his finances, and to maintain a balance between income and expenditure. The sum of ten thousand louis d’or is so enormous that it will take several years to raise. Doubtless Chevalier Chabrillan has friends and family who will advance what they can, and their contributions can be added to the sale of the more valuable possessions that he either inherited or accumulated over years of cruising against the Muslims. But that preliminary effort will raise no more than a down payment and will have to be followed by annual payments – perhaps for as much as another ten years. His supporters and family might even have to borrow additional funds from financiers, such as the Cohens in Algiers.’ There was a hint of satisfaction to his voice as he added, ‘If the Cohens charge their usual ten per cent interest, it will lessen any resentment should they ever discover that their name was used to trap the Chevalier.’

‘And what will happen to him while all this ransom is being collected?’

‘As long as the payments keep arriving, he will be kept closely confined and well treated. No one wants to see him perish. But should the flow of payments cease or slow to a trickle, then his conditions of imprisonment will worsen, and he will be given the opportunity to inform his family of his suffering. That should help loosen the purse strings once again.’

‘And what about the other men who tried to escape with him? Do you know what happened to them?’

Maimaran glanced meaningfully at one of the muskets displayed on the wall. ‘Your companion, the one with the dark skin, is an excellent shot. The man he brought down with his pistol died this morning. The pistol ball broke his spine.’

‘And what about the other one? There was a third man who ran away. Has he been caught?’

‘Not yet, as far as I know. But he won’t get far. He is on his own and in a strange country. The commander of the palace guard has sent word to all the surrounding villages that a watch is to be kept for him. The commander wants him caught before the Emperor returns to Meknes, because it will look bad for him if a slave has been allowed to escape.’ Maimaran broke off for a moment as he reached out to readjust a pile of ledgers on an elegant table inlaid with mother of pearl. ‘But I did not ask you to come here to talk about the fate of the runaways. You told me earlier that you were trying to trace your sister who, you believe, might be captive in Morocco, and for this reason you wished to render a great service to the Emperor. Now that you have succeeded in the first part of that ambition, I was wondering what you planned to do next, and if there is any way in which I might help. You’ve made my task as comptroller of royal finances much easier, and I feel that I am in your debt.’

Hector looked around the strange disorder of valuables on display. There were enormous ostrich feather fans, heaps of costly rugs, beautifully worked saddles, an intricate-looking clock lying on its back on the floor, several looking glasses in gilded frames, a leopard skin. He guessed they were items of tribute rendered to the Emperor or seized by Moulay from his hapless subjects, and he remembered that Sean Allen had mentioned how Hakim Reis occasionally brought gunpowder as tribute to the Emperor.

‘Do you know a ship captain by the name of Hakim Reis?’ he asked.

‘Another seafarer with piratical habits,’ commented Maimaran softly. ‘You seem to have a broad knowledge of such people.’

‘I was wondering if you knew how I could contact him.’

To his disappointment, the comptroller replied, ‘I’ve never met him myself. He usually stays with his ship down on the coast, at Sallee, and is tactful enough to send his Majesty some little curiosity by way of a gift. You see that clock over there, not the one on the floor, but on that far table. That is one of his presents which he sent to Meknes. It was made in London, and taken out of an English merchant ship that Hakim and his fellow corsairs waylaid off the coast of Spain. Naturally I keep a record of all such gifts. His Majesty has a habit of suddenly enquiring what happened to particular items. He has a remarkable memory.’ ‘Sean Allen said the same about the weapons he has to preserve in the armoury, even if they are so old that they are useless. He told me that he gets them also from Hakim Reis who in turn is supplied by someone called Tisonne or Tison. Do those names mean anything to you?’